


suadeo a te impetres ne sis nugax.

by flustraaa



Series: the one with the meet-cutes [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Anxious Alec Lightwood, Author Magnus Bane, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Clalec BroTP - Freeform, Famous Magnus Bane, Gen, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Kind Magnus Bane, M/M, Magnus is Oscar Wilde, Musician Magnus Bane, Prince Alec Lightwood, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood, dont @ me it’s accurate, lydia branwell is such a good friend, mentions of abuse, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: “i represent all the sins,” Magnus drawls softly, leaning in close enough for Alec to feel the breath on his neck, “all of the sins you never had the courage to commit.”Alec barks out a laugh before replying, “Thank you, Dorian Gray.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Isabelle,” Alec hisses as his sister rushes him out of the grand foyer, lifting the edge of her dress as to avoid tripping— as if she ever would, “This is a horrible decision, I am betrothed to wed Miss Branwell within a few days—“ 

“And,” She abridged his words in a hasty whisper, nodding to the royal guards as she quickens her pace, heels clipping against the cement, “That, my dear brother, is precisely why you must go.” 

“Your highness—“ he growls, watching in satisfaction as his younger siblings eyes narrow in disdain at the title. 

“You just dug your own grave, Prince Alexander—“ She smirks at his glower, “Lord Jace and I will cover for you.” 

“Miss Branwell—“ He shrinks in her firm glare, and he can hear his betrothed’s chorus to call her by her name, “Lydia shouldn’t be left alone with our parents.” 

“They love her,” Isabelle assures with a nod, adjusting the ascot that’s tucked beneath Alec’s pea coat before tugging it out along with the royal emblems of Lightwood Palace, “Now go. You must enjoy something other than archery and self loathing. Find something that you’ve been missing, all will be well.” 

Alec halts, hand settled over his racing heart and he takes a few deep breaths. His younger sister covers his hand, sending him a warm smile and a nod, “You have been deprived of so much. You’ve left this castle only as a prince, for once in your life, allow yourself to be a pauper. They have much more fun than us you know.” 

Alec nods, pulling his sister into his arms, smoothing her curls with a shaking hand, “I love you, Izzy. Please be careful.” 

“No,” She says, pulling away with her hands on his forearms, his coat and proper attire drapes delicately over her emerald fabric coated arm, “You must be safe. Be careful and—“

She pauses, reaching forward to ruffle his hair into such a mess that he snorts, grin matching his sisters when she nods satisfied at her own work, “Perfect, you must go now Alec. Be back before sun down. They’ll look for you at dinner and you must appear in such a way they’ll think you’ve been sick all day as we said.” 

“Lydia—“ He starts, only to be truncated once more by his sisters meticulously thought through plan. 

“Is on board with this. You must remember Alec, we have been friends since we were all in diapers, she loves you just as you love her... secret and all.” 

Alec stares at her for a long moment before she states softly, “We have all known for a long time. We want you to find a way out of this.” 

“She’s—“ 

“Very understanding, and still cares for you. But her heart lies with a young servant named John. Please, find someone as well. She intends to break the betrothal the day before the wedding— amicably of course,” Isabelle whispers, popping the collars of Alec’s crisp white button up. 

“This would make her happy as well?” He breathes, carefully considerate of his best friends feelings. 

“More than anything, she wants you to find the same.” 

Alec nods, muttering breathily, “I can try.” 

“Excellent, now you must go, the sun is about to rise.” 

Alec nods, clambering onto his horse before racing into the town square. 


	2. Chapter 2

Alec is moments away from town when he realises that his white stallion, is not only very, _very_ well known to be the Lightwood’s horse, but is further identifiable but the rather large patches of dark hair on its sides and back. 

His parents— rather his father, more specifically— nagged and scolded him for choosing a horse with impure fur, but to Alec? This horse was much like him. While the horse bared visible differences, it was of Alec’s preference to keep his own secrets buried deep in the dungeons of Lightwood castle. 

So, he takes the stallion to a stall, paying the stable man, Luke, a bit extra to preserve his identity. Much to his surprise, the main only shakes his head at the bribe. 

When Alec raises an eyebrow in question, more fearful of the possible exploitation of his identity, he is answered with only a warm smile. 

“Your brother is dating my daughter, we owe your family much,” He says softly, taking off his cap, “Clary has told me that you were the one to encourage Jace to pursue her. It’s because of you they are betrothed. Thank you.”

Alec shakes his head, “I would like you to keep this, I know you will treat Sylvester well.” 

Luke snorts quietly, “Sylvester Stallion?” 

Alec nods, cheeks aflame as he sets the money on the counter, thanking affirming Luke’s soft words of thanks before heading off towards the square. 

He first reaches a stand of flowers, and he finds himself filled with the urge to purchase the beautiful lilies on the edge for his mother. When he was younger they always littered the castle.

A soft smile finds his way onto his face as he remembers the days spent on the bench of the piano with his mother as she sang soft French songs with him, showing him the correct placements of his fingers throughout the pieces. 

He’s so caught in his memories, he’s not conscious of the body walking towards him until he falls on the ground, scores of music flying and notes about the gravel.

“Oh, dear,” The man in questions blurts, immediately rising back up to join Alec who is already on his knees collecting the papers, “It seems I’ve had my head in the clouds again, I’m so sorry—“ 

“No, it’s completely fine,” Alec says back in a soft voice, pausing and sinking back to his knees when his eyes fall on a particular piece of music, “Are you a fan of French lullabies?” 

The man pauses, glancing down at the paper, “Not particularly. I’m to play at the castle for their royal dinner— I’ve heard that the prince is particularly fond of _Fais Dodo Mon Petit Pierrot_.” 

Alec clears his throat nodding, “I— yeah, he is.” 

The man’s fingers stutter from cleaning up the remaining sheets, and Alec comes back down from his dazed state, helping shuffle the papers together.

“Do you know him?” The man inquires, lifting an eyebrows, clarifying when Alec lets out a confused hum, “The Prince? Prince Lightwood?” 

Alec shakes his head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically to be convincing but he continues anyways, “No— uh... I once heard a taping of his mother playing— she was a duchess. It’s a rumour throughout the kingdom that his mother would sing this lullaby to him when he was young.” 

“So... it’s infatuation?” Alec glances up, an amused smile pulling at his lips at the curiosity that seems to plague the man before him. 

“No, sir. Alicante is small, word breaks fast,” Alec states, hoping to the angels that the man doesn’t notice the surprise that overtakes him when he catches the appearance of the young musician, “I’m Alec by the way, and incredibly sorry for running into you.” 

The man lets out a noncommittal chuckle, taking the scores and writings that Alec extends out, “Magnus.” 

Alec freezes, starstruck, “As.... As in Magnus _Bane_?”

Magnus nods, eyes alight with surprise, “My name has made it to Alicante?” 

Alec nod vehemently, trying to find the words to express his love for Magnus literature without scaring him off, “You are in the library— I absolutely adore _The Importance of Being Ernest_.” 

Magnus smiles, cheeks beginning to turn a soft rose colour, “Thank you, darling.”

Alec nods, and Magnus glances around, before speaking once more, “I’m having a bit of trouble finding my around. Though small, this town is far larger than the village I grew up in. Would you show me around?” 

Alex finds himself agreeing after a long moment of shock has descended, before slowly dissipating into the air around them. 

“I...” Alec trails off before letting our a enamoured sigh, “I would love that. More than anything. I must warn you, I live just outside of the town, and it’s been a long while since I have roamed freely here.” 

Magnus only simpers— _endearingly_ , Alec may add, “That’s okay, darling. Getting lost is the proper way to talk about literature, and getting lost with you wouldn't be so foul anyway.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“So Alexander,” Magnus inquires as he waits for Dorothea, the old inn keeper to fish out a key for his room, “What do you do? Family business?” 

“My parents help with foreign affairs, they wish for me to do the same when they retire. Take over the family business,” Alec murmurs, the lie passing through his lips with such ease that is sister would be proud. 

“And what do you wish to do?” He asks softly, warm eyes glinting with compassion. 

“I wish to be a good leader,” He murmurs, “Perhaps a good father one day.”

Magnus hums thoughtfully, continuing on after thanking Dorothea for the room. She begins to bow, and Alec quickly shakes his head, to which, she stands straight; looking between the two of them. She glances back up at Alec, winking just as Magnus turns around towards his room.

Alec carries his suitcase up the steps, rolling it to and through the door as Magnus unlocks it. He marvels at the hotel, reminiscing in the memory of the night he’d spent hear as his parents negotiated their adoption of Johnathan Christopher Wayland— Jace, for short. 

Jace had walked into the room where Alec and Isabelle has spent the night, waiting doe his arrival. He had been curled in on himself— but the exact moment his eyes fell on the piano beneath Alec’s finger tips, he halted.

Alec moved over on the bench, and Jace had sat beside him. Upon Alec’s request, he played his favourite song— which happened to be a Bach prelude. It was from that moment that Isabelle and Alec had gone from we to three. 

“Alexander?” Alec blinks heavily, forcing his eyes away from the piano and the memories attached, “Where did you go?” 

Alec features vaguely to the piano, and Magnus nods in confirmation. It takes him four long strides, far less than he remembers— to close the space between himself and the beautiful Mahogany instrument.

Once seated, he lifts the cover, glancing at Magnus when his weight settles beside Alec. 

“When I was younger, my family rented this room. I meet my best friend here and we played on this piano for hours,” He breathes, hitting the first four notes of the French lullaby before his hand stills, “It was the first time I felt... like I didn’t have to be someone.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus states softly, so much empathy in his voice that Alec’s heart aches for him. 

“Don’t be,” Alec replies, voice just as gentle and tender as he turns to Magnus, “What’s happened is gone and I think I turned out alright.” 

A light smile dances on his lips, one that he wouldn’t dare allow to pass in the castle. 

Magnus glances up and down, and Alec feels his cheeks flush crimson, heat crawling up his neck in suit. Magnus licks his lips, before murmuring softly, “I’d certainly say you turned you better than fine. In my humble opinion of course.” 

And what does Alec do? He snorts. He’d like to add, incredibly unattractively— immensely surprised at the outright flirtation

But Magnus doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, smiling fondly at the nose as Alec returns his cerulean gaze to the piano. 

“I do believe,” Magnus says after a few comfortable moments of silence have passed, “That you owe me a tour of Alicante.” 

“Of course.”

Alec extends a hand, curtsying sarcastically. Magnus, however, is anything but deterred by his wit. Instead, the golden man laughs softly, taking his hand, before they exit the inn. 

“Hey,” Magnus chirps, startling Alec from the page of his book, “Look at this.” 

Alec glances up, only to find Magnus holding a copy of his own book. It’s light brown and leather bound and Alec would genuinely give anything to purchase it.

“Dear?” Magnus chicles softly, smirking like no other, “Careful, you’re beginning to drool.”

Alec spurs to life at that, genuinely afraid that he is in fact drooling. He brings a thumb and index finger up to the corners of his lips, wiping to find that there’s nothing there. His eyes narrow playfully at Magnus, who only smiles back. 

“I’ll get it for you,” He adds, voice gentle and kind, “I’ll even sign it.” 

Alec’s lips pull up into a grin, but he shakes his head, “I’ll buy if, but I’ll take you up on the signature.” 

As Alec waits for the clerk, Magnus speaks up from beside him once more, “So, this is your favourite place when you’re in town?” 

Alec nods, tracing the leather book with his fingers, “Yes. Whenever I’m in this part of the province I come here.”

Magnus grins warmly, watching as he interacts with Jocelyn, the shop keeper. 

“Luke said he’d seen you, but I hadn’t believed him,” She laughs softly, “You’re always on the move P—“ She must see the fear in his eyes at the concept of Magnus finding out he’s a prince, because she quickly forces out, “Pup.” 

Alec cringes, but mouths a soft thanks for keeping his secret.

“Have a nice day, Alec.” 

Alec smiles at her, “Thank you, Misses Garroway. You as well.” 

And Magnus is left thinking about how truly bizarre the interactions in this town truly are. 

“Where did you grow up?” Magnus ponders softly, as they walk down the street. 

“North of Alicante by a few minutes. How about you?” Alec questions, keeping instep with the shorter man. 

“A small village outside of Jakarta Indonesia,” He says softly, “My mother moved us over the seas when I was young. My father passed on the voyage.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alec whispers, eyes holding nothing but sympathy, “It is not easy to lose someone you love.” 

“No,” Magnus agrees, “My father was not the best man but he was my father.” 

Alec nods, feeling the statement radiate deep in his bones. He halts, stopping Magnus with him along the path less traveled. 

“Come with me,” Alec urges softly, “It’s beautiful when you reach the falls.” 

“The.... The falls?” Magnus inquires, slipping two fingers under his collar, pulling it from his neck. 

Alec nods confusedly, eyebrows furrowing, “Yes... is that a problem? We’ll end at the base.” 

“No, it’s...” Magnus clears his throat, taking a few steps forewords, “It’s fine, darling.” 

Slowly, and moreover hesitantly, Alec nods leading his new companion to the water falls. There’s a long few moments to hiking before the reach the base.

“It’s beautiful,” Alec says, walking closer to the edge of the water, before turning to look at Magnus. He’s pale, and swaying on his feet. Alec cocks his head to the side, leaping through the space as Magnus lists sideways. 

He catches him before he can hit the ground, sinking down the the sand with the young author, “Magnus?” 

It takes a few soft calls of his name for Magnus to stir back to the land of the living, and when he does, he’s dazed. 

“My hero,” He wheezes, turning his head back towards the falls, however Alec stops the motion with two fingers. 

“Do you fear the waterfalls?” He asks after a long moment, stroking a soothing hand through Magnus’ hair. 

“Water,” He murmurs, “I was almost drowned when I was young. Now I hold trepidation around it. Forgive me, I don’t usually faint.” 

“All is forgiven,” Alec murmurs worriedly, “Would you like to stand?” 

Magnus nods, “That would be preferred, darling.” 

Alec nods, still bordering on the edge of apprehension, though he helps Magnus rise to his feet, steadying him with two hands. 

Together, they slowly walk back to the edge of the forest and return to the inn. Alec allows Magnus to lead him up the stairs and to his room, both men halting at the frame. 

“Thank you, for catching me earlier,” Magnus says, and Alec glances up. 

“I wasn’t going to let my favourite author fall to the ground,” Alec chuckles, body ceasing it’s movements as Magnus starts to lean in. 

It takes him exactly five seconds to realise that this is his chance to change everything. For the first time in Alec’s life, he makes a decision for himself. He closes what little distance remains between them, lips pressed firmly to Magnus’. 

It’s _everything_ he’s ever desired 

Magnus bites down lightly on Alec’s bottom lip, and he takes the collar of Alec shirt, pulling him closer. 

After what feels like hours, Magnus hands slipped under Alec’s shirt and Magnus haired ruffled, Magnus murmurs something about coming in and Alec doesn’t even think before taking the key from Magnus. He shoves it in the lock, allowing Magnus to push him down onto the mattress. 

And after that, he’s not too sure what happens. 

What Alec is sure of, however, is the exact moment he startles awake. His arms are wrapped around Magnus and his clothes are spattered about the room.

He throws a sharp glance at the clock across the room, and a relieved breath leaves his lips when he sees he has time— just barely. 

He races throughout the room, shoving his extremities into various articles of clothing before picking the notepad and pen up, scrawling our a brief not of apology, placing in on the pillow where he was laying. 

It’s in a moment of weakness, though tries to convince himself its strength that he presses a soft kiss to Magnus’ sleeping head. A sincere apology sleeps as sweetly as it is soft from his lips before he tears off towards the boarded stable. 

What he doesn’t see is the way Magnus sits, reading over the note and walking to the window. Nor does he see, the dawning realisation on Magnus’ face when a horse with the Lightwood emblem runs past him. 

What Magnus _fails_ to see however, is that Alec isn’t employed by the Lightwood’s. 

He _is_ a Lightwood. 


	4. Chapter 4

Alec strides from the stables into the fields, slipping the bow and quiver that Isabelle left in the stable over his shoulders. 

As he reaches the guards, he sends a light nod in their direction— one of them, Underhill, rolls his eyes but says nothing about what has been going on in the day. 

Alec slips through the door of the castle, the taste of freedom and successful deceit on his lips until he hears short clips that could only be his mother’s, his father’s shoes in tow. 

“Alec?” The queen calls softly, “Are you feeling better?” 

Alec turns, concurring in brevity, “I went out to the range to get some fresh air.” 

His mother makes a motion of affirmation, closing the space before wrapping her son in her arms. She murmurs a quiet order: “Go get some rest, we have your engagement dinner tomorrow. You must be well, okay?” 

She pulls away, cupping his face and looking over him with scrutinising eyes.

“Yes, mother,” He breathes, closing his eyes. 

His mother pauses softly after his father has left the room, voice suddenly softer, “You would tell us if something was wrong, right?” 

Alec nods, and he knows that maryse can see the lie in his eyes but she says nothing of it; only kissing his forehead and walking away. 

Alec releases the breath he’d been holding since he’d woken up at Magnus’, before climbing the stairs. When he reaches the summit of the east wing, he makes his way past his siblings bedrooms until he finds his own. 

He halts at the door, finding it ajar and a candle light flickering by the bed. Lydia must be up, he thinks absently, pushing open the door. 

He’s not surprised to find that he’s correct. His fiancée (is that even what one would call her in their situation?) sits on the bed, reading a book. She glances up at the noise, sending Alec warm smile. 

“How did it go?” Her voice is nothing but hopeful and Alec smiles against his better judgement. 

But Alec shrugs, heaving off his bow and setting it on the rack, staring at it for a long few moments before shaking his head and rolling his shoulders back. 

“I’m so sorry,” She states, and Alec knows she’s being honest. “I intend to break up the marriage tomorrow. There is no courage or honour in living a lie.” 

Alec nods, agreeing, before heading to the bathroom to wash up. When he returns, all remnants of Magnus are swirling down the drain and he smells of pine and vanilla once more. 

Lydia is now lying on the edge of the bed, and Alec lies in his spot, back facing her. Just as he’s beginning to dip in a slumber, with dreams filled of Magnus, Lydia speaks up once more. 

“You deserve every happiness, Alec,” She sussurates, sounding mostly asleep herself, “I hope you find it soon.” 

Alec allows a noncommittal noise, before succumbing to sleep. 

He’s woken at dawn by Clary, of whom herself looks annoyed that she’s awake. He rolls over, letting out a yawn that cracks his jaw before looking at Lydia as she wakes. 

She looks at him for all of a few seconds before cracking up, “I went on a tangent about how good of a person you were, and you started snoring.” 

“I _don’t_ snore,” He grumbles, eyebrows furrowing, “Stop making up lies about your future king. I’ll have you sent to the dungeon.” 

Lydia laughs softly, eyes suddenly flickering with nostalgia and distant memories, “I hope one day for you to be you again.” 

“I _am_ me,” He says confusedly, “Hence the wording choice.” 

“No,” Clary suddenly disputes from the edge of the room, covering his hand with hers as she sits beside him, “You carry burdens with you every day that no man should ever have to lodge. Especially, one of your age.” 

Alec takes in a deep breath, running his fingers over his face before nodding, “Got it, stop being _me_.” 

“No,” His friends chorus together, before Lydia continues on. “Be the you that had a sea turtle pins on the sleeves of your jacket as a young boy.” 

Alec nods softly, squeezing his friends hands before he realises they must begin to get ready. A stressed Queen Maryse, is not one one to be reckoned with.

Once Alec steps foot outside of his room, he is immediately ushered into his carriage, Lydia place besides him. They are directed to hold hands, and so they do. Alec’s crown is placed on his head, a small tiara that belonged to his grandmother placed on Lydia’s head. 

“Everything will be alright,” She soothes, clearly keen to notice his inner turmoil, though Alec figures it’d be hard to ignore how much his hands are shaking and palms are sweating, “We will still be friends when this is over, you aren’t losing me, and the kingdom will survive, married heir or non married heir.” 

Alec shakily gesticulates, forcing himself to relax and the carriage takes off through towards town. The moment he reaches the town square, his heart halts in his chest. 

The dawning realisation that Magnus could see him helping to blossom an ugly flower of remorse and embarrassment in his stomach. The roots move throughout his skin and he extremities prickle with uncapped anxiety. 

“What is it?” Lydia says, teeth still bared in a smile as she waves about the kingdom’s people. 

“I met _someone_ ,” Alec breathes through his teeth, blinding grin still tight on his lips as he too waves, “And _failed_ to mention that _I’m_ the _prince_. He has no clue, and if he sees me Lydia I’m royally fu—“ 

“None of that,” She abridges his anxious ramble. 

And then, Alec sees him. 

Magnus stops, cocking his head to the side and crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing into a squint before they widen and he blinks. He watches as Magnus’ mouth forms the syllables of his name and Alec forces himself to look away. 

He doesn’t see the disappointment— whether it be for the lies, or because they would seldom see each other again— run rampant throughout Magnus’ features. 

But when he turns once more, he finds Magnus is gone, and his heart rattles painfully against his ribs. All hope for happiness, dissipated. 

Alec plays a somber rendition of _Fais Dodo Mon Petit Pierrot_ , fingers tracing the keys at a slow hum. Footsteps sound behind him, and he stills, fearful for his fathers’ rant on how music is not masculine enough for a king. 

But instead, the sound of the loafers soles pause, before coming around to sit beside Alec. 

And then, a soft voice breaks the silence, “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

Alec shakes his head, unable to meet Magnus’ eyes as his fingers trace the keys. Magnus’ reaches across the piano, stilling Alec’s hand, before wrapping them with his own. 

“Help me understand,” Magnus states gingerly, “I don’t want to be upset with you, but I am. And if you help me understand, perhaps I’ll feel the same as I did when you fell asleep in my arms.” 

Alec nods, closing his eyes, “You must speak softly. My father cannot hear any of this.” 

When he glances at Magnus, he sees the comprehension overwhelm his features, eyes holding only warmth. 

“I am betrothed to Miss Branwell, she is a duchess of a neighbour state in the province. She, however, has fallen in love with one of the servants— I _loathe_ that word— John. We intend to break the betrothal at dinner,” Alec explains, eyes focused on the lilies that lie above the piano. After the parade he had gone back for them, hoping to pass Magnus, but having no such luck. 

He continues on, shoulders slumping under the weight of the world and the secrets that consume him, “I had the full intention of carrying through with the wedding—“ 

Magnus truncates his words, “You are bisexual?” 

Alec flinches, and Magnus squeezes his hand, urging him to answer on, “No. I... I could never love a female as more than a sister, or a best friend.” 

“Why would... _Oh_.”

Alec bites his his inner cheek, shrugging absently, “I serve on a basis of honour. I must make my family proud, do what they ask of me. But I’m finding that there’s _no honour_ in living a _lie_. Particularly, when I’ve found someone who makes my heart catch fire such as you have.” 

Magnus blinks, once, twice, three times and Alec’s heart stutters and halts in his chest, fearful that he’s lost the chances of the past twenty four hours carrying through into the rest of eternity.

Alec finds his eyes reverting back to the keys, just as Magnus begins to speak again. Alec looks back into entrancing golden eyes, taking in every sincere word.

“I am not a man of monogamy, generally speaking,” he murmurs, “And I will not like, Alexander, you have provided an emotional pain that will take me time to heal over.” 

Alec nods, head lulling foreword in shame, only for his chin to he turned up by Magnus finger tips. When he finally meets Magnus’ gaze once more, he find a reserved and cautions smile on Magnus’ lips. 

“But,” He remarks, voice kind, “You have unlocked feelings in me that I have not allowed myself to experience. If this is truly your intent, than I am _more than willing_ to try.” 

“I would never wish this life upon you.” 

Magnus sends him a simper, a private one, made by a light and honest quirking of the lips. 

“My darling, it’s been twenty four hours, but it feels like so much more. You are the first time my soul has felt as though it is tethered to something tangible— something that it must hold onto to,” His words are but only a whisper, and butterflies spur to life in Alec’s stomach.

“Okay,” He whispers, the words feelings like a secret that will only ever belong to them, “At dinner we shall try.” 

And it is with these words, that Magnus presses a soft kiss to Alec’s lips, pulling back. 

“I _will_ see you again, Alexander.” 

What they don’t see, is the way Alec’s mother watches from the doorway, a heavy heart in her chest and a delicate smile on her lips; even she can’t hide the fear that this house of cards is about to fall. 


	5. Chapter 5

“We welcome the future King, Prince Alexander Gideon Lightwood and the future Queen, Lady Lydia Anne Branwell!” Alec holds out his arms, allowing Lydia to link with his before they walk down the stairs. 

He makes eye contact with John Monteverde, and sends a warm acknowledgement in return to the smile he is greeted with. 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he presses a soft kiss to his mothers cheek, and shakes his father’s hand before leading their guests onward to the formal dining room. Lydia holds his hand under the table, both shaking like a leaf as Magnus plays the piano in the open hall. 

“Magnus intends to play _Fais Dodo Mon Petit Pierrot_ ,” Alec whispers softly, as he pretends to kiss Lydia’s cheek, “That is our cue.” 

She tightens her grip on his hands as a acknowledgment, pulling away gingerly. 

The various servers come around the table, laying out plates of salmon and asparagus before each of the family. Generic banter follows in suit and Alec prays to every entity in heaven and hell alike that no one can see the looming apprehension that plagues his every movement. 

He tethers himself firmly to the things that are tangible around him. The buttery feeling of the vegetables under his knife, the crisp water on his tongue. 

He grips his napkin firmly, until he hears the melody of his childhood lullaby and his body still completely. Lydia chimes her fork againsther wineglass several times until the clatter and chatter has come to a standstill. 

“Hello,” She breathes, rising to her feet, burgundy dress falling elegantly around her waist, “Our esteemed guests.” 

Alec finds it more and more impossible to look anywhere but Lydia, heart thundering beneath his jacket. He watches her take in a deep breath, steeling herself for the ensured onslaught of hate and incrimination that is bound to follow. 

“We thank you for coming, but Prince Alec and I have come to the conclusion that there is no honour in lying to our country,” Alec looks down at his plate, feeling his parents gaze settles viciously on him once the gasps have ceased, “I am in love with another, and I owe to to my betrothed and myself to give true love the chance to reign. Alexander and I love each other, but we will never love each other as you expect us to. Our children deserve to be loved and witness love by those that truly feel it for one another.” 

Alec nods slightly, wiping his mouth and setting his napkin on the table, taking Lydia’s hand as everyone remains at the table in a stunned silence. 

“Go, you must go. Your family will await you in providence, but my father will not be so accepting, the carriage and John are our front.” 

Lydia nods hastily, pressing a kiss to Alec’s cheek before running off. Magnus begins to rise to his feet but Alec shakes his head, pulling out of his suit and button down, watching as his father follows him out to the gardens.

He can see the exact moment Magnus’ realises what is about to happen, but sends him a silent plea to leave the matter alone. 

“Oh, dear,” Helen, Alec’s cousin and their family healer, breathes, dabbing the sponge along the gashes in Alec’s back, “Your father really has made a mess this time.” 

Alec agrees silently, wincing heavily as she applies a salve, dropping the sponge in the bucket. 

“It was noble of you,” Helen states softly, “To choose _love_.

“That lashing would speak differently,” Alec mumbles, wincing as she applies the medicine to a particularly painful laceration. 

“Oh god,” Magnus gasps from the door, and Alec laughs devoid of any actual particular amusement. 

“I knew it would happen,” Alec mutters, biting down on the fabric of the pillow to stop the whimpers that threaten to scrape from his throat. “ _Never_ disobey the King.” 

Magnus sits on the edge of the bed, taking one of Alec’s hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before seemingly realising that there is, in fact, another person in the room. 

“It’s okay, sir Bane,” Helen declares, “Alec is my cousin, and I have a wife of whom I adore very much.

Magnus sends her a kind smile, which she returns with ease. She presses the final wrappings to the wound, beginning to help Alec back into his shirt. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to bear fabric at the moment, forgive me for my state of undress,” Alec wheezes as he rises to his feet. 

Helen and Magnus only shake their head vehemently, declining any offence with notable strength. 

“It is completely understandable, cousin,” Helen assures him, squeezing his hand reassuringly before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I must be on my way now, ring us if there are any more prominent issues.” 

Alec thanks he as she leaves, bidding her farewell. 

“Alexander, my darling,” Magnus sighs, once Helen as left the room, closing the door behind her, “You need to rest. Is it safe for me to be here?”

“Only my mother and Isabelle hold a key, and after what has been done, I don’t expect my mother to ever speak to me again. Izzy wouldn’t ever wish either of us harm,” Alec states, voice weak and skin of an ivory pallor. 

“Then you _must_ rest,” Magnus proclaims, voice gentle, as he helps Alec lower down onto his stomach. Once situated, Magnus pulls the royal blue sheets above Alec’s waist, minding the mutilations that he brandishes. 

Alec turns his head to face his lover, sending him a worn and weary smile as his dark lashes flutter shut over his cheeks. 

“Will you sing?” He sussurates, and Magnus is almost positive he is on the precipice of deep slumber— but who is he to deny someone of Alec’s... well, every bit of Alec of something that he so formidably desires? 

“ _Fais dodo mon petit Pierrot,_ _J' t'apprendrai à filer la laine,_ _Fais dodo mon petit Pierrot,_ _J' t'apprendrai à fair' des sabots_ ,” Magnus coos softly, words slurring enough to make a warm song. 

Before he can make it to the second verse, his darling’s breaths have evened, lips parted and eyes draped heavily closed. He tests the waters, brushing deep raven locks from the young prince’s eyes to ensure that he is sound asleep. 

He continues the motion throughout the night, even after Alec has managed to shove his face between the gap of Magnus’ thigh and the mattress beneath. 

His heart races in his chest when there is a sound click in the bolts of the door, fearing the worst. 

A head of raven hair peaks through the door, a beautiful sapphire tiara perched atop the crown of the woman’s head. Magnus quickly identifies this woman as Queen Maryse, and he halts his movements effective immediately. 

She closes the door behind herself, movements desisting as she spots Magnus’ golden eyes in the darkness of the room.

He expects so many different scenarios, but the reality he’s met with is the complete opposite of all of them. 

“You must be Magnus,” She inquires gently, closing the space between them, a hand resting over her heart and a pained gasp leaving her lips when she sees the damage that’s been done to her eldest. 

“ _Oh_ , _Alec_ ,” She rasps, voice heartbroken and precariously slipping towards weeping, “This must end.” 

“You know of me?” Magnus finds himself pondering aloud, to which she glances up, sending him a tearful smile. 

“I heard him speaking to you at the piano earlier in the day, just after noontime,” She speaks, eyes softening, “I have always known of his preferences, but I have also always known of both his allegiance to the by-laws and to his father’s ways.” 

Magnus nods softly, before glancing back up at her at her movements. She presses a kiss to her child’s head, combing her fingers through his locks in brevity before closing her eyes

“When Alexander awakes,” She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes, and speaking after they reopen, “I want you to tell him that he is free to be of his own. Tell him that I have taken care of the matter at hand.” 

“My Queen—“ 

“ _Maryse_ , or mother, depending on how this shall go,” She corrects, and it’s in that exact moment that Magnus can see the force of a thousand men behind her words, “And I do not intend on any physical harm to my husband. He has a lot of things that he has hidden for far too long, and it’s time the people become aware. Tell my son, that he is _free_.” 

“I promise.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Alec awakens slowly, the various lights and noises of the world underwater. After a pregnant few moments of quietude, he returns, finally, to the surface, allowing his eyes to flutter open. 

“Good morning, darling,” A warm voice stated above him, tucking the hair away from his eyes. “How was your rest?” 

Alec moves briefly, a hiss forcing its way from his teeth as he remembers the deep cuts that litter his back beneath the bandages. 

“Splendid,” He grumbles, but as he glances up, he is unable to fight the smile that overtakes his face at the sight before him, “Hello, my love.” 

Magnus smiles at him, golden eyes glowing in the morning light. 

The door creaks open and Alec’s body stills, awaiting whatever presence may present itself. 

“Alec,” He cannot deny the sigh of relief that exits his lungs. “Oh, _Alec_ , what did he do to you?” 

He can see the curiosity in Magnus eyes, though he says nothing on the matter. Isabelle’s heels stop short, and she sends a very shy, un-Isabelle greeting to his suitor. 

“Isabelle, this is Magnus Bane, he is my Monteverde,” He hopes to heaven and hell that Isabelle understands the significance, “Magnus, this is Isabelle, my sister.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Magnus says kindly, dipping his head in acknowledgment, “Your brother told me stories of your childhood, and I must say, you are incredible.” 

She grins at him, her expression reverting back to its somber state as she remembers her brother is lying on the bed.

She walks around, lifting the bandages slightly. Alec for his part, grits his teeth together and buries his face in the pillow, fingers gripping the fabric to a painful extent. 

His sister, for her part, mumbles an apology in brevity, before pulling of the bandage. She fiddles about with the various salves on the table, rewashing and dressing the wound once more. 

“I must go now, Max has been whining 

for hours about being ravenous. I’ll be back, if you’ve not arrived by the end of breakfast I’ll ensure you two are fed,” she states, wiping her hands on the balled up apron from the table, “If you do come down, I am very proud of you, either way.” 

She leaves the room, and Magnus wonders if Alec has fallen asleep again— if not blacked out from the pain. Soon after this thought, his prince heaves a bone-weary sigh, turning his head to face Magnus. 

It’s in this moment that Magnus remembers what he was meant to tell his beloved. 

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes, and Alec’s attention immediately snaps up, eyes glazed over in trepidation—it’s hidden well though, “Your mother told me to tell you, that she has taken care of your father.”

Alec blinks at him owlishly, before stammering out something along the lines of, “You mean to say she...” 

But Magnus only shakes his head, combing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Alec’s neck to the crown of his head. 

“No, she just told me to tell you... that you are free now.” 

Alec is silent for a long few moments, heartbeats passing between his next words, and just as Magnus begins to speak comfort, he continues. 

“ _Marry me_?” The words are spoken sincerely and Magnus heart thunders against this rib cage. 

“Pardon?” He rasps, unsure that he heart these words correctly. 

“If you are unsure, we can court but you are the one that I have looked for— and I am to be married so I just....” He trails of nervously, only to be completely halted by a kiss on the lips. 

“Are you sure, Alexander?” Magnus asks softly, “You have known me but a short time, and there is a reason people only stay for the night.” 

Alec only smiles, “And you have stayed for two. Comparatively to my father, to the court, you are what matters. You make me feel like I can breathe after I have suffocated under their grip. I am sure of you.” 

Magnus finds himself nodding, eyes locked on the finger Alec pulls his ring from before taking Magnus’ hand, and slipping it in place. 

“Then, Magnus Bane of a small village outside of Jakarta,” Magnus chuckles quietly, unable to deny the fondness that rushes through him, “We will be married.” 

And the grins that Magnus is awarded with when he leans down to press a kiss to his fiancée’s lips, is worth everything. 

Alec winces heavily as Magnus slips a jacket around his shoulders, muttering an apology as he does so. Alec shrugs it off, buttoning the jacket slowly but it’s only as the light hits the side of his face he fallen asleep on that Magnus catches sight of the navy and crimson on his cheek. 

“Did he strike your face too?” Magnus asks softly, cupping the side of the prince’s face. 

Alec only acknowledges it, quickly moving the topic along. He holds out his hand to Magnus, allowing a few seconds to pass as Magnus accepts before pulling him into the bathroom. 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes at the top of the staircase before leading Magnus down to the formal dining table, where those that truly care have congregated once more for breakfast. 

The clatter of silverware stops as they look at the two men, standing shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand— awaiting an explanation. 

And so, Alec doesn’t hesitate to provide one. 

“Greetings, my friends, family,” He pauses, glancing over at Magnus when his hand is squeezed reassuringly, “This is my fiancé, Magnus Bane.” 

His eyes meet Jace’s across the table, worried most about losing his best friend; instead of disappointment, he finds an encouraging smile. 

He glances to Clary and Isabelle next, who beam at him. Then his mother, who has her hands over her mouth— and he can tell she’s feigning surprise, to which he makes a mental note to ask about later.

Finally, he takes in the rest of the table, finding far more pleased expressions than bitter ones and it’s in that moment that he allows himself to smile, before continuing on. 

“We intend to rule together, as your fair and just _kings_.” 

And with that, a brief bout of silence passes over the table, and Alec can hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

And then, the youngest Lightwood lifts his challahs in place of a wine glass, decreeing, “To Alicante.” 

Alec can tell from the shit-eating grin on his face that he’s just glad he got to yell. 

But then, one by one each member of the royal council lifts their glass, chorusing back, “To Alicante and it’s _kings_!” 

And it’s in that moment, that Alec, already haven broken many aforementioned traditions,pulls Magnus into his body, flinching as warm hands meet his back, but all the more happy to hug his groom. 


	7. Chapter 7

Magnus takes a deep breath, rolling over only to be stopped by a wall of warmth. He huffs our a fond chuckle and he realises that Alec must’ve brought him to bed after he’d fallen asleep working on his latest book. 

The latter is indeed still asleep, lying on his long since healed back, snoring the morning away as Magnus begins to wake. 

Following tradition, three months had passed since their betrothal, and unlike the first time, no vows had been broken at the courtship dinner. 

Magnus allows his eyes to focus for a moment before they settle on the prince— his husband’s face. 

Magnus watches as Clary Lightwood-Herondale— now the crowned princess of Alicante pushes open the door, sending her brother in law a fond smile before slipping the curtains open just enough to pester his beloved out of slumber. 

Alexander, however, has other ideas. His bent arm immediately finds his eyes, turning his head from the light and reaching for his husband blindly.

Once his shuffling hand meets warm skin, he lets out a contented noise, pressing himself firmly against his beloved. His voice carries to the crook of Magnus neck, muted as he murmurs, “Not yet.” 

Not long after his limbs begin to sink back into the bed— into Magnus, breaths deepening once more.

“Now, my darling,” Magnus starts, patting Alec’s shoulder, “I’m all for lying in with you— especially after the horrendous weekend you’ve had with corresponding delegates; but it’s your coronation. It’s time to get up.” 

He breaks away from his Prince Charming, rolling to face him. Clary— realising that the moment was turning rather intimate— must’ve fled the room, closing the door behind her. 

Magnus ticks the stray raven hairs covering his beloved’s face, chuckle to himself as it seems to only lull the soon-to-be king further into a sleepy-daze. 

“That’s enough of that,” He chuckles, presses a chaste kiss to his lover’s lips, “We will have plenty of time to do whatever your heart desires after coronation, my husband.” 

“Will you read to me?” He queries, finally allowing blue eyes to settle on Magnus, “As the tailor and barber prep me? Will you read the beginning of your new work?”

“Of course my love,” Magnus assures, running a soft hand over his consort’s cheek, “It’s about you, how could I ever keep that to myself?” 

Alec allows and infamously unattractive snort to leave his lips, throwing a leg around Magnus, laying on top of him, “You are of the sappiest nature, turtle-dove.” 

“Five minutes, and then we must get up,” Magnus folds, wrapping his arms around his husband. 

And as for the five minute rule, one may be absolutely certain that Clary returned an hour later to find them both sleeping once more. 

And perhaps the princess threw a pillow— or several at them. 

_Princess Clarissa Lightwood-Herondale: One._

_Kings Magnus and Alexander Lightwood-Bane: Several thousand._

“Do you solemnly swear to do everything in your power for the greater good of your country?” The crown-bearer decrees, and Magnus has to hide a laugh at the height difference between his husband and the bestower of the crown. 

“I hereby swear to execute every action with full intent for the betterment of my fatherland,” Alec replies, nodding firmly, resting a hand on the Kings sceptre— his sceptre. “For as long as I may live.” 

“I know pronounce you, Prince Alexander Gideon Lightwood the First, King of Alicante! Long live the King!” 

Alec kneels before the royal bestower, sucking his head as they lie the crown upon his head. He rises to his feet, shaking hands before centring himself on the steps, outstretching a hand and wine glass to Magnus. 

The latter joins his husband, the king in toasting. 

“As your king, for now until my dying breath, I toast,” Alec declares, raising a glass with the entirety of the kingdom before his feet in the Grand Hall, “To Alicante!” 

And much to Magnus stupor, over two-hundred thousand citizens call back, “To King Alexander and King Magnus!” 


End file.
